


Why's It So Hard

by totilott



Series: A Groovy Kind of Love [32]
Category: DCU (Comics), Justice League International (Comics)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Clothed Sex, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sex Pollen, Silly shenanigans, You wanted it you got it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:13:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25901881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totilott/pseuds/totilott
Summary: Do not trust strange alien powders.
Relationships: Michael Carter/Ted Kord
Series: A Groovy Kind of Love [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1282328
Comments: 12
Kudos: 59





	Why's It So Hard

“There’s the guy!” Booster jumps out of his seat, raising a hand in cheerful greeting. He sees Ted pause, taking stock of the crowded hospital reception area, before locking eyes with Booster and sheepishly making his way over to him, past a small cluster of people talking to the reception lady. Booster grins, trying to hide how thoroughly he's studying Ted on his approach.

Okay, so his limbs are all there. No signs of bandages or stitches as far as he can tell with the costume on. No limping, no blood, his suit isn't torn. He's maybe looking a little pale, but then again Ted's never been invested in the tan look.

"I was afraid they'd wheel you out," Booster tells him brightly, but as Ted steps closer, the smile on Booster’s face fades and he lowers his voice. “Wait, have... Have you been crying?”

There's a flush of color in Ted's face and he quickly raises a hand to wipe his chin. Even with the cowl and goggles Booster can spot the puffiness around the eyes, the red-tinged nose. Ted chuckles nervously. “No, no. Or -- Not really. Not by choice.”

Booster frowns and angles his head down to study him closer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“They just, uh --" Ted glances back to the door he came from. "They flushed my nose.”

“What? Who did?”

“The nurses, they flushed my nose with saline.” Ted sounds almost embarrassed as he gestures to his face. “It’s _agony._ Burns all the way up to, to --” He pauses, tapping a fingertip right above the bridge of his nose, searching for the term. “The, you know. The sinuses. The tears kinda come on their own.”

“Jesus," Booster murmurs. "What on earth happened to you?”

Ted makes a soft noise through his nose and turns towards the reception desk, not meeting his eyes. “Very little, I promise. I’m fine, Boos.”

“Beetle, when you call _me_ to come pick you up at the hospital I figure it’s something pretty fucking grim!”

“It’s no big deal, I promise. I've called the Bug, I just need you to sign me out of here."

"Sign you out?" Booster's voice is strained with disbelief. "You mean they doctors want you to stay here? What's happened to you? Where's the League? Is this --?" He grasps Ted's shoulders in his hands, lowering his voice to an urged whisper. "Is this some kind of breakout?"

Ted laughs, pushing him off. "It's not a breakout, it's a formality. Just sign the paper and I'll tell you in the Bug."

"You will _not_ tell me in the Bug, Blue Beetle," Booster tells him sharply, using his moniker only because he can't call him by his full name in public. "Because I will not sign anything until you tell me what's going on!"

Ted stands for a moment, looking at him with an expression of annoyed yet embarrassed disbelief. Then he glances to either side, lowering his voice. "Look, the League's still on the mission, okay? I just happened to get... Doused with something. Probably nothing. Almost certainly nothing."

Booster blinks. "Doused?"

There's a sigh from Ted before he continues in the same hushed voice. "J'onn insisted I'd get looked over by a doctor." He fans his fingers out, trying to assure him. "I have no symptoms of anything, okay? Nothing out of the ordinary. The doctors have wiped me down, rinsed me off -- inside _and_ out, and they can't find a single trace of anything on me." He glances towards the reception desk. "But with hospital policy, they don't want to be liable in case it's something dangerous -- _which it isn't,"_ he quickly adds. "So either they keep me under observation here for ages and I occupy a bed for no good reason at all--" He turns back to Booster and pats his arm gently. "Or a certified, dependable colleague checks me out, and signs the paper that says they'll keep a close eye on me for the next twelve hours."

"I mean, wh--" Booster stutters, trying to process this barrage of information. He blinks, looking Ted up and down. "Just what did you get... doused with?"

“Look, I’ll tell you everything in the Bug.” Ted flashes a strained smile, his eyes still watery behind his goggles. “I’m not going to give you a full debrief of a League mission in public. And I'm --” He hesitates, then sighs, giving him a pleading look. "I'm just _tired,_ Boos. Normal kind of tired, I promise. I just... wanna get home, eat, put on some sweatpants, and you're the only one who can get me there."

Booster pauses, studying Ted’s unwavering, pleading gaze.

"Please, Boos."

Booster chews his lip.

He doesn’t _seem_ crazy. Or dazed, or sick, or anything. He seems like himself, just as stubborn and charming as only he can be. With a sigh, Booster steps towards the reception desk, trying to locate a working pen.

* * *

There's a comforting familiar feeling to being back in the Bug, the hum of its engine, the dropping sensation in your guts when it takes off. Booster hasn't been in here in about a year. He leans against the closed side hatch, looking on as Ted presses the buttons and turns the levers with precise fingers, making the Bug ascend and fly along through the New York skies at a steady pace.

“Okay. Now.” Booster studies him intently. “Tell me what happened already. From the beginning.”

“Fine, fine, fine," Ted mutters under his breath, twisting in his seat to reach another switch. "We went to this, uh... I guess abandoned base. Apparently after the old headquarters blew up, scavengers took the salvageable bits and retrofitted them, and J'onn wanted --”

“Wait, which old headquarters? What blew up?” Booster asks, dimly wondering, as always, exactly what Ted is adjusting and influencing with his constant button pressing.

There's a smirk on Ted's face, like he's keeping some kind of secret. "The League headquarters. J'onn wanted to make sure they didn't have access to the old computer system."

“Which League? Detroit?”

“No. Not Detroit.” Ted glances back at him with a grin of such childish excitement it makes Booster smile too. Then Ted points a gloved finger at the roof of the Bug. “The space one. The satellite.”

"Wait, this is all still in space?"

Ted grins wide and nods emphatically, bordering on bouncing in his seat with each nod.

Booster giggles, beginning to understand. “You're telling me you went to space today?”

“I went to space today!” Ted repeats with the tone of a five-year-old telling an adult he got to sit in the front seat of a firetruck. “It was -- God, it was amazing, Boos. Even exploded and repurposed you can see how ingeniously that thing used to be put together. I could still recognize _entire sections_ from the old pictures, I thought it was all gone! That tech? That engineering -- ah!" He gestures passionately, keeping an eye on the horizon as he steers the ship. "Like, sure, it’s getting a little old, but the fact there's so much of it still in working condition...! I mean, those airflow solutions alone are completely--”

“Sure. Absolutely.” Booster interrupts gently before Ted gets even more carried away. “So space scavengers took bits of the exploded satellite and made a new space... base thing. But then they abandoned it?"

"Found something better to scavenge, probably," Ted tells him. "Space is just chock full of junk and abandoned satellites. It's real messy up there."

"So what happened?”

"Well, the computer system --"

"To _you,"_ Booster quickly specifies, before Ted can get too excited talking about the tech. He drops into one of the passenger seats, back and to the right of Ted.

“Well, we were combing through the base to see if there were any traces of the old terminal,” Ted glances down at his hands. “And, uh, maybe I got caught up, a little bit, studying the wiring job, following the cables, and I --” He glances back at Booster again with a self-conscious smirk. “I kinda wandered off.”

Booster grins and chooses not to say anything. Though he doesn’t know many other people who would get distracted from a mission looking at _wiring._

“I wandered off and I ended up in -- I don't know, a pantry? A lab?” Ted leans forward in his seat, looking through the windshield up at the sky, as if he could see the base from here. “This room with shelves and stuff. It was mostly emptied out anyway.”

 _“Mostly,”_ Booster murmurs, recognizing a certain hesitation in Ted’s voice as he said it.

“I didn’t really see it before I knocked it over, but it was this, uh --” He indicates a small object with his thumb and forefinger. “Sealed glass jar kind of thing, and it broke, and there was this purple dust in it that got everywhere. And I -- Well, I got some of it on me and I might have inhaled just, like, a pinch of it.” Ted makes a face, meeting Booster’s concerned gaze. “Like, practically nothing! Just the teeniest, tiniest amount, I swear. But J’onn had no idea what it might have been. There was no label or anything, so -- “ Ted clears his throat. “He sent me right back down, insisting I check in with the toxicologist at the hospital.”

"These scavengers. Were they, like --" Booster makes a vague gesture from himself to Ted. "People?" 

Ted sucks air between his teeth. "We don't really know, uh, what they were. It's not like they left portraits hanging on the wall." 

"Oh, great," Booster mutters, feeling his signature on that hospital form might possibly have been a very bad idea. "So this powder thing, it could be like --" He makes a face, trying to think of examples. "Alien drain cleaner or space anthrax or --"

"Or dry shampoo, or corn meal!" Ted ventures with a carefree smile. "This happened hours ago at this point, Boos. Don't you think if it was dangerous I'd be feeling it right away? Or now? The doctors found absolutely nothing wrong with me."

Booster doesn't take his eyes off him. “Nothing?”

Ted squirms a little in his seat. “At most, she said I’m maybe running a slight temperature -- I mean _barely,_ nothing general excitement can't account for,” he’s adds quickly with a dismissive gesture. “That’s it. Like I said, they tried to get a sample from my clothes and my skin, and they couldn't find anything. So they flushed my nose, which was horrible, never wanna do that again -- they had me gargle saltwater, wiped my face down, did, like, a full disinfection routine on my suit...” 

“The whole works?”

“That’s what I’m saying!" Ted shrugs, not taking his eyes off the horizon. "Every precaution’s been taken, but it’s really -- it’s nothing. Just some space dust. They -- Ah!”

In one fluid motion Booster has stood up, pulled off his glove and pushed his bare fingers beneath the fabric of Ted’s cowl by his cheek.

“You are running kinda hot, you know.”

Ted’s skin does feel warmer, if only by a hair. A little clammy, too. 

"Why do you always have to do that when I'm driving?" There’s a subtle tremor in Ted’s body. "Boos, is your --" He shudders, pushing Booster's hand away. "What's going on with your equipment?"

Booster glances down at gauntlets, his blasters. "What? Nothing's going on with my equipment."

"Sure? There was like --" Ted makes a swift fluttering motion with his fingers, indicating something Booster doesn't quite understand. Finally Ted shakes his head, turning back to the windshield. "I guess it must have been static electricity or something."

"I didn't feel anything," Booster tells him, pulling his glove black on. "You're sure you're doing alright?"

Ted laughs thinly. "Booster, please, you're gonna switch on the hypochondriac in me."

"We could just go back to the hospital, you know."

Ted squirms in his seat, repositioning himself. "No. I'm just saying if you keep grilling me about this you're going to make me believe I'm feeling things I'm not." He sighs, shifting again. "Like, I've been feeling the same for hours. If it was, I don't know, space arsenic or some kind of mutating potion, we'd, uh, already see the effects." He rolls his shoulders back and squirms once again, like he can't find a comfortable position.

Booster drops back down in his seat but his gaze doesn't move from Ted, who can't seem to sit still for more than a few seconds at a time. "What's wrong? Something hurt?"

"No, uh --" Ted chuckles, squirming again. "Nothing weird, nothing hurts, just --" He moves a hand and fidgets with something at his waist. "Oh my God," he mutters, almost laughing, under his breath.

Booster is feeling his official responsibility for Ted's health weigh heavier and heavier on him the further they fly away from the hospital. "Ted, what's going on?"

Ted laughs thinly, staring ahead through the windshield, both hands on the steering yoke. "No, I'm kinda just--" He leans forward in his seat, angling his hips awkwardly back. "I'm just really, uh..." A pause, then his voice drops to an embarrassed murmur. "Kinda rock hard right now." 

Booster can't suppress a small titter. "What?"

Ted glances back at Booster, a self-conscious smirk on his face. "I guess that's what happens when you paw at me when I don't expect it." He frowns, shifting in his seat. "Ah. Fuck. Excuse me." Keeping one hand on the yoke, he quickly undoes the belt on his suit and slips a hand inside his tights, adjusting himself, before he redoes the clasp with practiced fingers.

"I barely touched you," Booster teases. "Didn't know you were on a hair trigger today."

"Yeah, me neither," Ted breathes. "God, you just -- you smell so good today, you know that?"

"Hm, thank you," Booster replies, amused. He hasn't changed anything in his morning routine in a while, not so much as a new cologne or shampoo that would make him smell much different than he always does. But he feels a secret thrill at the flush in Ted's face, at his softly parted lips, his knotted brow as he tries to focus on steering the Bug.

Getting to his feet again, Booster makes the few unsteady steps over to Ted's seat, unbalanced by the motion of the ship, and leans against Ted's chair, trailing soft fingers under his chin. "You could put this thing on hover for a while, you know," he purrs. "And I could help you out with that."

Ted frowns without taking his eyes off the skyline and shrugs him gently off. "Mm. Booster, no, just -- Just let me calm down." He glances up at him before returning his focus to steering. "And not in costume, you know that."

"The nice thing about costumes is that they come off," Booster grins, teasing a thumb along Ted's clavicle.

Ted breathes through pursed lips, not looking at him. "Boos, I'm serious."

Booster sighs softly, stepping back. There's still an electric charge in his body, adrenaline from flying to the hospital, worrying, waiting. All that bottled-up energy inside him, and only so many ways he knows how to spend it; He could fight, or sprint, or do pushups -- but now they're together there are some specific stress-relieving activities he'd much rather be doing with Ted. Especially when he sees the way Ted's breathing has deepened, the slight flush of color in his face.

Ted exhales through his nose, glancing at Booster and then back to the view. "Can all passengers _please_ get back to their seats?"

"Aye aye," Booster sighs, taking a few dawdling steps and dropping into the cushioned seat, stretching his long legs in front of him.

"Thank you," Ted mutters, squirming again. "God, this cup is agony. I swear any day now I'll arrange that survey, ask every guy in the business what kind of protection they recommend. No way does Batman skulk around with a cup that pinches him."

"Just don't rope me into knocking on people's doors for you," Booster smirks, holding up an invisible microphone. "Excuse me, Mr. Superman? What do you use to protect your bait and tackle?"

Ted snorts, arching against the back of the pilot seat. "You think _Superman_ needs to wear a cup?"

"You got a point," Booster concedes, imagining a baddie trying to knee Supes in the groin and probably pulverizing their leg in the process.

If Supes even has traditional junk down there -- he's an alien, after all. Could be all sorts of crazy stuff hidden behind those blue undies. Tentacles or pincers or God knows what. He supposes that question could be settled with a quick glance sideways at a urinal, but then -- Does Supes ever need to take a leak? Booster has seen him drink stuff, but can't recall ever seeing the man of steel excuse himself for a trip down the corridor at the few gatherings they've both been invited to.

He glances over to Ted. "You haven't ever gone to the men's room with Supes, have you?"

Ted stirs in his seat. "What? No. No, I'm pretty sure I haven't." He twists around, giving Booster a quizzical look. _"What?"_

Booster offers a smile. "Nothing, just curious."

Ted turns back around and the Bug grows silent except for the hum of the engine. "I think I'd avoid it, if I could," Ted mutters. "Talk about getting a monumental case of shy bladder."

They both titter for a moment before silence falls again. Booster leans his elbow on the armrest and puts his chin in his hand, eyes resting the back of Ted's head.

Okay. So -- twelve hours, looking after Ted.

Lots of fun they could get up to in twelve hours, even at the Embassy. The League is presumably still away in space, maybe even another mission. He knows how often a simple little reconnaissance trip like that might lead into something else, especially in new and strange places. You come across things, across people, you investigate, you help out. If that's the case that might leave the Embassy deliciously empty for the evening, maybe all night. Ted wouldn't get called on duty anyway, as long as he's meant to be recovering, or under observation.

Something pricks in Booster, though, and he leans to the side, taking in more of Ted; The way Ted's chest rise with every deep breath, how tense his body seems.

"Teddy?" he asks quietly.

There's a slight tremor in those blue gloved hands gripping the steering yoke. "Uh huh?"

"Still hard?"

A strained, breathy chuckle. Ted doesn't glance back at him. "As a diamond."

"You don't think that might be related to the space dust thing, do you?"

Ted flushes a brighter red and chuckles again. "No. No, that -- that part usually works fine without, uh--" He attempts to wipe his face, though with his cowl on Booster can't see how that would accomplish much. "Performance enhancers." He flashes Booster a restless smile. "This kind of thing happens to you too, you know. A lot. Not everything I do today has to be because of that stuff."

"I'm just saying, you --"

"What, you think I stumbled over some kind of --" Ted licks his lips and giggles. "Space Viagra?"

Booster giggles too. _"If your erection lasts more than four light-years, talk to your doctor."_

Ted massages his neck, frowning. "No, no, light-years are a measure of, of, of -- space, you know."

"Of course it's a measure of space."

"No, I mean, st-- Uhh," Ted stutters, shaking his head slightly. "What do I mean? Uh... Distance!" He laughs weakly. "Boos, you're ruining my concentration. Like, jeez, why do you smell so fucking good?" 

Booster pauses, regarding the five or so feet separating them in the flying craft. His headiest cologne wouldn't carry that far in the air-conditioned Bug. "Maybe we should get back to the hospital."

Ted's shoulders tense. “What? No. No, no no. Absolutely not.” He smacks his palm against a large turquoise button, and the Bug comes to a standstill, or its closest airborne equivalent. He exhales unevenly, hunched over in his seat. “I’m not going to the-- Mm. The hospital so they can help me out with a fucking _hard-on.”_

“I just want to be sure.” Booster pauses, gesturing vaguely at Ted's crotch. “I mean, it’s just a... reaction, Ted. They’ve seen worse.”

“No, it’ll -- It’ll pass.” Ted angles his head back, staring unfocused up at the blue sky outside for a moment. Then he leans forward and presses another button, making the bottom hatch behind them open up, letting in a quick gale of wind before the pressure aligns and the air is still again. “I’m, ah, feeling better already. Just -- Need a bit of air. It's stifling in here." Ted gets to his feet, a little unsteady, and stands beside the hatch, hugging himself and frowning down at the streets below them.

"Okay. Okay, sure," Booster tells him softly, not entirely convinced, as he gets to his feet and approaches Ted. He reaches out his hand to feel Ted's temperature again. "But I still think --" A little squeak escapes him at the force with which Ted tackles him -- a clumsier tackle than Ted’s ever used to knock down a villain, clumsier than anything Booster ever had to endure in football, but Booster is completely unprepared and the next thing he knows he’s staring up at the pale metal ceiling of the Bug, feeling the rubber flooring against his back. He lifts his head, about to ask what the hell that was about, but he pauses at the wide-eyed, startled expression on Ted's face looking down at him.

There's a moment where they only stare at each other, equally confused.

"I'm -- sorry! I'm sorry," Ted squeaks as he straddles him. "I don't know why I did that."

"Well, don't ask me," Booster titters, confused. Trying not to notice the familiar heat of Ted's body, the delicious weight of him.

Ted's breaths are coming deep and fast. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, yeah." Booster lifts his head off the floor, meeting Ted’s gaze. Another moment passes, and he's still just as confused as before. "I'm just -- Not that I’m not having a great time down here, Junebug,” he murmurs at last. “But can you get off me already?”

There’s a tremor in Ted’s hands where they rest against Booster’s chest. He swallows without looking away. “Uh... No.”

Booster titters, caught off guard. “What?”

“I-- I don’t want to.” Ted glances at his face, then looks away, embarrassed. “Fuck, I don’t know. Just give me a minute. I feel I -- I _really_ don’t want to.” He closes his eyes, a tinge of panic in his face. “I don't get it, wh-why am I --?”

“So, um, let’s assume --” Booster begins, calmly, trying to mimic some of Ted’s confidence when he’s airing one of his theories. Speaking like he knows what he's talking about. “That this is all related to the -- that space dust thing.”

Ted nods hesitantly, shifting his position on top of Booster, moving subtly against him, hip against hip. “So why would it make me -- make me, ah --”

“Plonk down on top of your best friend?” Booster shrugs against the floor. “Beats me. Some alien’s idea of a prank?”

“Some prank,” Ted breathes. “Can think of some way funnier ones, alien or not.”

A small, sharp noise escapes Booster.

“Like, ah --” Ted licks his lips, blinking down at his partner. “Then again, doing the bucket of water over the door must be tough to-- Ah. To... pull off in zero gravity.”

“Mm-hm.” Booster’s voice quivers slightly, and he closes his eyes. “Ted, you do realize you’re -- um.” He exhales unevenly. “What you’re doing?”

Even clothed, even with their most sensitive parts protected by hard plastic, the way Ted grinds against him, the slow, insistent rolling of his hips, makes Booster's body feel warm and heavy.

“Yeah." Ted swallows. "I don’t mean to.”

A breathy, slightly confused giggle from Booster. When he attempts to sit up, Ted’s hands immediately push him down, firmly, one hand grasping his chest.

“Fuck, I'm sorry,” Ted breathes, not pausing, hips rocking slowly against Booster, hands warm and broad and wonderful. “I’m, I’m just --” He makes something like a whimper, frowning helplessly down at him. “God, you -- you want me to stop, right? I should stop. Fuck.“

Booster arches against the rubber flooring, sighing softly at the way Ted's hand kneads his chest. An unfamiliar sort of tension, a demand. Not at all painful, but not gentle either. The fingers tense against him, deliciously selfish and oh, Booster could get obsessed feeling Ted's hands touch him like that.

Ted shifts on top of him for a moment, like he’s caught off balance, then continues, grinding a little faster, a little harder. “Booster, you’re so -- Mm. Holy shit.” Ted’s eyes are dark and beautiful in the dim light of the aircraft. “What am I doing? Tell me I’m not -- Am I doing this ag-- against your will?”

Booster’s hands find Ted’s hips, pulling at him, wanting him closer. Impossibly closer. “Are you doing it against yours?”

Ted lets out a breathy chuckle. and the flush in his face, what little can be seen in his cowl, is irresistible. His other hand moves down, searching for the subtle edge separating Booster’s tights from his top. Ted’s voice comes out in a breathy whisper. “You should tell me to stop.”

Booster grasps Ted's searching hand and guides it to the bottom edge of his top, urging Ted's fingers beneath it, against naked skin. He replies softly: “I don’t want you to stop.”

Ted kisses him, harder than they've ever kissed, desperate and hungry and unyielding, their goggles clacking against each other, while both his hands tear at Booster's costume. In a moment Booster’s top is bunched under his arms, the air cooling the heated skin on his chest, his stomach. He giggles and squirms as he starts to work his way out of it, when he feels Ted’s hot mouth against his chest, and he moans, helplessly arching against him.

Ted wraps his arms around him, his hot tongue, his soft lips giving ample attention his Booster's right pec, teasing and nibbling the sensitive underside before moving to his hardening nipple. His hands press greedily against Booster's back, forcing him to arch further, shoulders resting against the floor. 

It's so shocking and sharp and delicious, it's so good Booster feels he could die from it. And completely unexpected. Ted who’s never given much attention to his chest beyond caresses and gentle teasing, the chest area being another of Ted's old mental obstacles that Booster has been more than prepared to accept, happy with the strides they've made in other areas. He feels Ted cup his other pec in his firm grip, while his lips and tongue and teeth go at him hungrily, making his body thrum with pleasure. 

Booster can hear his own voice, his moaning, his keening, and he knows he’s being loud, louder than he dares to be even in his own apartment, but everything is so intense, so beautifully, incredibly intense, and even with the bottom hatch open, who's around to hear them up here?

“Oh, fuck, I love this, I love -- Ahh, I love you,” Booster gasps, clinging to him, feeling Ted’s hard insistent thrusts against his thigh, Ted's other hand moving down to tear at Booster's tights, pulling them down with a violent jerk, and Booster can't help but laugh breathlessly at the dizzying urgency in Ted's hands. That's almost the most exciting thing of all. Booster whispers, out of breath: “Ah, can you -- Please, Ted. Ah. Take off your gloves.” 

He wants skin. Just skin and heat and Ted’s body against him.

Without pausing his kissing and nibbling, Ted squirms and eagerly tears off his gloves, carelessly turning them inside out in the process before he throws them aside. Then he grasps Booster’s hips firmly with both hands, the heat of his naked palms making Booster’s body ache, before he glides them upwards, possessive, enjoying the contours of Booster’s body.

A giggle escapes Booster as he grabs hold of his own goggles, pushing them up and behind him along with his cowl, and finally he wriggles out of his top, warm and flushed and naked expect for his tights bunched up just above his knees. He sits up, reaching for Ted’s face, his cowl, because he wants to see Ted, all of Ted; His hair, his face, the freckles on his shoulders. Ted kisses him again, rough and hungry, groaning, while Booster’s fingertips finds a subtle plastic square sewn into the fabric of Ted’s cowl under his chin, right where Booster has seen him open it about a billion times.

Ted’s fingers dig into his naked skin like he's worried Booster is gonna slip away, his kisses bordering on bruising their lips, but Booster can only make a squeak of frustration as he fumbles with the underside of Ted’s cowl, failing to open it.

“Te-- Mm,” he groans, trying to angle his face away to speak, and Ted answers by moving his attentions to his neck, his clavicle, his shoulder, kissing and licking like he's been starving for it his whole life. “Ted, I just -- _Hhah_ \--” This time Ted’s hand has found Booster's hair, gripping it and pulling his head back to better access his neck, and the power and authority of it just about makes Booster lose his mind. His erection is pounding, pressed against Ted's clothed body straddling him. 

"Am I, ah--" Abruptly Ted lets go and sits up, body trembling like he's forcibly pushing himself away, and looks at Booster with low-lidded eyes. "Am I hurting you? I don't want to hurt you, I don't, I --"

At first Booster can only answer with his brightest, flushed smile, cupping Ted's face in his hands. "You're not hurting me, not at all." Then he flicks the underside of Ted's cowl in frustration. “But Ted, Christ, I wanna get this off you. What’s the gimmick?”

“Not important,” Ted murmurs indistinctly before slipping his hand down, taking Booster's cock in his hand, direct and completely unashamed. “I don’t care. I’ll keep it on.”

Booster lets out a wavering groan as Ted begins stroking him with quick, urgent movements. “You're the one who -- ohh, fuck -- you're always saying --"

"I don't care," Ted repeats under his breath before hungrily trailing more kisses and nibbles down Booster's neck to his chest.

Booster could point out that Ted was the one who first brought up the rule, no hanky-panky in costume ever, keep their professional and romantic lives separate. Wouldn't do to start associating the work uniform with sex, get distracted in the field. That was the rationale. Immediately Booster had imagined the thrill of teasing and tempting Ted to the point where he'd break that rule, and it was a fun fantasy, but right now all he knows is he desperately wants to have Ted as undressed as he is, see his wonderful face and hair and body.

He claws half-heartedly at the bottom of Ted's cowl and keens softly, frustrated. “No, please. How do you get it off?”

Ted licks his neck, fingertips raking down his chest. “The gloves.”

“The fucking gloves,” Booster groans with a smirk, out of breath, and twist around to look for them in the general direction Ted discarded them earlier. He can't see them, and the way Ted's hand, his strong, wonderful, no longer gentle hand possessively grasps his chin and turns his face back towards him to kiss him again, makes him less keen to get up and go search. Fine. He surrenders happily to Ted's kisses, his strong hands. The cowl can stay on for now. He'll work around it.

Booster pulls hungrily but ineffectually at Ted's costume. He finds Ted's belt with his fingers, trying to concentrate as Ted wraps his arms around him again, bends him back like something on the covers of the romance paperbacks Tora reads. The belt buckle won't budge either.

"And the tights?" Booster murmurs, feeling groggy and drunk on Ted's attention. "The -- The belt. Teddy." He realizes they've never undressed each other, not in costume. He's pulled all sorts of civilian clothing off Ted, but never the ubiquitous blue and black suit.

Ted pulls back for a moment, breathing hard, and there's something wild and helpless and gorgeous in his expression. He grabs hold of the front of his belt himself, then pauses, looking down at his hands with a frown. "Ahh. Fuck."

Booster looks down at the unopened belt. "What do you mean, 'fuck'?"

Ted twists around, scanning their surroundings. "Still need the gloves."

 _"No,"_ Booster titters incredulously. "You're telling me you've made your entire costume burglarproof?"'

"Just the..." Ted turns back to him, staring at Booster's mouth with low-lidded eyes. "Cowl and belt."

"What, just in case Despero wants to pants you?" Booster giggles. "Prepared for every little ev--" Ted kisses him again, ravenously, one hand winding through the hair at the back of Booster's head to pull him against him. Booster allows himself a moment to enjoy it, then pushes him resolutely away. "Let's find these fucking gloves, then." He would never have been so keen on getting rid of them if he knew they were the obstacle between him and a gorgeously naked Ted.

Ted whimpers softly, warm hands pulling at him, but Booster grins and shuffles away, scanning the aircraft for the elusive dark blue gloves.

Not on the console, not _under_ the console, not in any corners he can see, not on the floor, not anywhere around the open --

Ah.

Booster can't help but laugh. He shoves himself closer to the open hatch in the floor, peeking over the edge. The wind whips his blonde hair about his eyes, and he looks down at the irregular lines New York’s streets make far, far below them.

Apparently there are these shady superhero paraphernalia auctions that are held regularly, a myriad of underground collectors eager to own a little piece of their favorite heroes. He wonders idly what a pristine pair of Blue Beetle gloves might go for, before they're locked up in a glass case in some fan’s private collection. 

He turns back towards Ted. “Okay. Right. Where do you keep your spares?”

Ted is still where Booster left him, kneeling, eyes closed, breathing deeply. “My s-- spares?”

“Extra gloves.” Booster indicates the hatch with a nod. “Because you won’t be getting those back anytime soon. Where are your spares?”

“Not here, I haven't --” Ted sits back, massaging his temple. “The... The workshop. And my r-- my room. I’ve got the extra-- God. Uh, extra pairs in the...” His voice trails off.

Booster frowns at him, concern like a boulder in his gut. Ted’s so out of it he struggles to form complete sentences now. As unexpected and exciting this burst of passion is, what if that alien dust is doing real damage to him? He squats down close to Ted, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. Junebug. Are you sure you're okay?"

Like a flash both of Ted's hands cup his face, pulling him down into a hard, hungry kiss, Ted's ragged breathing close to groans. Booster can't help but answer, can't help but comply and drop down on his knees when Ted pulls him closer again. It shocks him how thrilling this is, how he loves being manhandled by Ted, wanted by Ted to such an irrational, animalistic degree. Loves it so much he would like to forget how abnormal it all is.

Just a bit. Just for a little bit, if it'll calm Ted for a moment, they can head back to the hospital and then they --

Booster finds himself forced on his back again, his hands tugging clumsily at Ted's shorts, but the belt is threaded through the loops and there's no give at all. He hears himself moan as Ted's mouth works his neck, Ted's weight deliciously on top of him, Ted's legs between his own. God. God, this is torture, being naked in Ted's arms with everything delicious and wonderful and gorgeous about Ted locked away, denied him by a fucking safety measure. He pulls at Ted's top, so roughly he inadvertently pinches him, earning a surprised gasp, but finally the lycra slides away, the top pulls up, and Booster's palms find the warm, slick skin of Ted's back, his strong sides, the soft, thrilling pattern of hair on his chest.

God, Ted's chest still makes his mouth water. Emboldened, he cups it with both hands, feeling how full and delicious it is against his palms, and Ted groans again, thrusting against him and _Jesus --_

"Ted, Ah. _Ted,_ you feel so good," Booster whimpers, his legs wrapping around Ted's midsection almost on their own, a flush of guilt in him because he knows it's made Ted uncomfortable before, too much like penetration, too much like anal, just their bodies positioned like this. But Ted doesn't stop, the full-body, rolling motion between Boosters leg doesn't stop, Ted's cup bumping against him, over and over again. The act, the visuals of it more exciting than anything directly physically stimulating happening. Booster arches against the floor, panting, his hands moving down just to feel the motion of Ted's hips, how far he pulls back before thrusting fully forward with deep short groans in Booster's ear. Fuck, he didn't even know Ted could move like this, how much range of motion he had in his waist, his hips, and every few thrusts Ted curls around him, the soft skin of Ted's stomach moving against Booster's hard cock for a few short, sweet seconds.

"Ah. God. God. Ted," Booster breathes with each thrust, feeling himself building, just from this, just from the sight of it, the feeling of it, Ted so wonderfully, amazingly on top of him in a way he's never been before, moving like this, without shame, without hesitation.

Ted trembles, his forehead resting against Booster's shoulder, and groans in heated frustration, continuing to thrust ineffectually against him, his movements tighter, more frustrated with every stroke.

“Okay, hang on, ah,” Booster breathes, looking down where their bodies meet. “You’re not gonna -- I’m guessing you’re not getting anywhere like this.”

“Boos. Booster. Please,” Ted groans into his ear, not a self-conscious apology, but a genuine, frustrated plea. His heavy breaths warm Booster’s neck.

"So there's no --" Booster hooks his fingers into the leg hole of Ted's shorts. "No access at all into this? Like if you need to take a leak, or --"

"No," Ted grunts, thrusting ineffectually against him once more. "Just the... The gloves."

Booster titters, frustrated, though not half as frustrated as Ted judging from the breath whistling between his teeth. "Okay, wait, lemme see what we can --" Booster moves his hand down, smooth lycra against his palm. He can feel Ted's cup under the fabric. It's slightly softer than the ones he uses himself, more suitable for Ted and his gymnastics, but not nearly soft enough to let Booster grasp him through the material.

"Booster --" Ted pleads, rocking against him, but Booster shushes him.

"Don't move, we're gonna figure this out," Booster tells him, trying to convince the both of them. He searches until he can find the upper edge of the cup with his fingertips, and fumbles a bit until he manages to lift it just enough to slip his fingers barely under it, fighting against the tight lycra. "Okay, um, how are you positioned right now?"

Ted trembles, his forehead resting against Booster's shoulder. "What?"

"Your dick," Booster urges brightly. "Downwards, left, right?"

"Uh," Ted murmurs, pausing, moving his hips slightly as if to investigate. "Left. My left."

Booster bites his lip in concentration, lifting the cup as much as the tight fabric allows him to, angling it slightly sideways until he feels subtle movement, feels something firm spring against his fingertips.

"Ah," Ted grunts softly.

"Good boy," Booster murmurs, pinching the fabric, giving Ted's cock enough room to move until it points towards the source of all their troubles, the locked belt buckle. Then, still pressing the cup upwards, Booster uses his other hand to rub firmly against the head of Ted's cock through the fabric.

Ted's body stiffens with a soft moan.

"Is that alright?" Booster breathes with a grin, his legs still pressing against Ted's midsection. He never thought he'd do this, stroke Ted off in costume, but he's nothing if not adaptable. He spreads his fingers, gliding them downwards on either side of Ted's cock, at least what parts of it he's got some access to. Ted pants and shudders, hips thrusting forward with each stroke, a little gentler than before.

"Ah fff-- Boos. Oh my God. Oh my God," Ted groans against his skin, then his hot tongue and lips meets Booster's shoulder.

Booster closes his eyes, his body heavy and warm and tingling with arousal. He loves this, he loves the weight of Ted, the heat of him, the sound of him, the incredible, shocking way he moves. Nobody knows how amazing this is, being right here, being part of this.

Just a little bit. A little bit longer, just until Ted comes. Then Booster'll be responsible and reasonable and make a plan. Just after this. After a little bit more of this.

Ted moans, a tight, wavering sound, his movements rougher, more urgent. Booster tries to match his pace with his fingers, the movements so much smaller than he's used to, and separated by too many layers of fabric of Ted's shorts and tights. It must feel so dulled and indistinct, so much less direct than what Booster would do if he could have him naked and... accessible. He'd use his hands, his mouth, his body, whatever Ted could possibly want. 

God, imagine what they'd get up to right now, with Ted like this, if they'd both been naked. What they might get up to once Ted's out of his costume, if he's still going through these kinds of urges.

The notion strikes Booster that... Man, they could. _He_ could. Could allow himself to take delicious egotistical advantage of this bizarre situation they’re in, with Ted’s misgivings and hangups apparently completely gone for the time being. Positioned just like this, moving much like this, except naked and prepped and lubed. Ted hard and heated, Booster tight and eager and absolutely deranged with the joy of Ted enjoying him like that.

Okay, so maybe it wouldn’t be... _fair._ No, probably not entirely fair.

But imagine if Ted would at last learn how good it could be, how desperately Booster’s wanted him like this. They could revisit it when everything’s back to normal and maybe that would be the fairest thing of all, Ted already having crossed that bridge, already aware how delicious and uncomplicated it is. Without the shame and prejudices.

Booster's fingers slip on the edge of Ted's cup, the taut lycra making it snap back into place, and Ted jolts and hisses in pain.

"Sorry! I'm sorry, babe," Booster breathes, urgently fumbling until he can lift the cup again, resume his massaging from before. Ted trembles in response, his gaze dark and unfocused, his lips parted in soft panting.

Booster licks his lips, watching him with low-lidded eyes.

No. It wouldn’t be the right thing to do. It would be taking advantage.

"Hahh," Ted gasps, his thrusting getting a little rougher against Booster, a little more erratic. "Fuck. Booster."

"God, you're so hot," Booster whispers back, his own hips rocking up to meet Ted's body with each thrust. "Don't stop."

Ted's hand winds under Booster's shoulder and hooks behind his neck, pulling as Ted curls around him, his thrusts getting shorter and tighter, just a little quicker, and Booster's own breathing is already fast and shallow, mirroring Ted, like he can feel Ted edging. God, how he loves this. He can't seem to ever get tired of it. Quite the opposite, he loves how familiar this feels, how he knows from so much delicious experience just how close Ted is from all his delicious little tells, how his body gets tight and clumsy, how shallow his breathing becomes.

"Ted. Teddy," Booster moans softly, his own cock throbbing. If he had an extra hand he'd jerk himself off as well, because this is too good. It's too good, and it aches in him to think that they might never be just like this again, Booster's ankles locked behind Ted's back, Ted moving like this against him. It's so good. It's practically perfect, it's --

Ted grunts hoarsely, pressing against him so hard Booster's pelvis seems to creak, Ted's hips grinding against him one, two, three, four times, slower and slower, until he shudders and lies completely still except for his back rising and falling with every breath.

Booster wraps his arms around him and lets his head drop back against the floor, blinking slowly at the ceiling of the Bug. Tries slowing his breathing as he unwinds his long legs, his body tight and warm from lack of release. Now he'd really like to jerk off, but it's done, this is when he's supposed to be selfless and responsible. That was the plan.

"Booster." Ted's voice is barely audible. He still lies there, heavy and warm and wonderful, and Booster can't see his face.

"Mm?" Booster murmurs, arms still wrapped around Ted. He should get up. He should get up and get dressed and take charge.

"What the hell was that?"

"It was good," Booster murmurs back. His arms don't seem to want to let go. His body doesn't want to get up. "It was really good."

"God, I -- Ah." Ted stirs, sitting up, and looks down at himself. There's a dark stain in his costume, below his belt. "I don't know why -- God, the dry cleaner's gonna love this one."

Booster laughs, out of breath, and sits up, already missing the heat and weight of Ted's body. He exhales, his gaze finding Ted's flushed face. "Do you feel better?"

"Yeah, I think I do," Ted murmurs, hesitating. "Like I can -- Can think, a little bit, again." He wipes his chin, exhaling deeply, then he glances down at Booster and seems to finally notice the condition he's in. He chuckles softly, placing a warm hand against Booster's thigh, and looks at him with soft eyes. "You're very, uh, resourceful, you know." He leans forward, placing a soft, warm kiss against Booster's cheek, who groans almost inaudibly in response. "Maybe I could show you my gratitude."

"You can't show me your gratitude, it's locked behind a foolproof belt," Booster teases, pushing him gently away before he jumps to his feet, erection bouncing, and looks for his suit. "And later. We're taking you back to the hospital."

"The hos-- No." Ted flushes a brighter red. "I'm not going back there like this." He gestures vaguely at his crotch. "No way."

"Ted, come on," Booster tells him, having located the lower half of his costume. "I admit this was -- a ton of fun, but we both know this isn't..." He pauses, then begins pulling his tights back on. "Normal."

Ted hides his face in his hands for a moment. "I know," he murmurs, almost inaudibly, then looks at Booster. "I'll -- I'll get checked out again, okay? After I've changed suits."

"They're medical professionals," Booster argues as he pulls on his tights. "I'm sure they see way grosser stuff every day."

"They're locked out of my suit too, you know," Ted tells him abruptly, like he's just remembered the argument. "They can't open this belt and cowl either."

"They'll cut it."

"I don't want them to cut it!" Ted whines in response, getting to his feet. "Despite what you may think, repairing these suits over and over isn't my favorite hobby, you know."

Booster pauses, half dressed, and frowns at him.

"Boos." Ted smiles softly at him, those brown eyes behind the goggles holding his gaze. He trails a gentle hand along Booster's naked arm. "I'll just change real quick at the Embassy, okay? I'll change and then I'll go see whichever doctor you want. It'll only take a few minutes."

Booster purses his lips and exhales.

"Honest."

* * *

Booster doesn't know exactly what has damaged the roof of the Embassy this time. Ted mutters something about Lobo, and Booster doesn't bother to ask further, based on the exhaustion in Ted's voice when he says it.

Ted who's become increasingly quiet as they've neared the Embassy, his breathing perhaps a touch more labored. Booster watches him in silence as Ted puts the Bug into hover mode again, dials the sequence that turns on the mirror camouflage, and opens the bottom hatch once more. 

_Just a few more minutes,_ Booster reminds himself. Just a quick stop, and then Ted can be evaluated by professionals. "I can fly you down," he offers, reaching out a hand as Ted grips his trusted trapeze handle.

Ted stands still for a moment, looking at Booster's hand. "Uh. No. I don't think that would be... It's fine." He steps into the open hatch with familiar ease, there one moment, gone the next, dropping like a stone until the wire goes taut with a twang and he swings and drops down on his feet on the asphalt. Booster flies down, still amused at how Ted found flying with the ring completely panic-inducing while he regularly jumps out at heights like these with only a thin wire and his own grip to save him.

When they convene in front of the Embassy Ted is frowning, staring into the middle distance, hand on his neck.

"Hey," Booster tells him softly as he lands. "Still okay?"

Ted closes his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. "Ah. Yeah. Still just... I don't know."

"Still just what?"

Ted opens his eyes and smiles, almost self-conscious. "I don't know. Pressure. Let's -- get inside."

Booster opens the door for him, frowning. "Pressure?"

He steps in after him, the door smacking closed behind them, and next thing there's the impact of his back hitting the cool wood of the door, Ted's body pressing against his, Ted's lips locking with his own.

Booster flails in surprise, trying dimly to push him away, but Ted's hands grip his wrists and holds them firmly against the door, on either side of Booster's head. A panicked giggle escapes Booster, somehow enjoying this without meaning to, as Ted’s strong leg presses between his so insistently he can’t help but buck against his hip, riding his thigh for a few dizzy seconds. Then he remembers where they are, and in a panic he opens his eyes, scanning the hallway and what little he can see of the living room, the entrance to the kitchen. No one here. In space. They're still in space.

Ted groans into his mouth, grinding against him.

More than anything he’s surprised at how effortlessly strong Ted’s hands are, how naturally they pin his wrists against the wall, how easily Ted can overpower him like this. It's intoxicating. They’ve play wrestled and even fought several times, explosive movement, bursts of power, but this isn’t anything like that. There are no grunts of effort, no straining. It’s simply Ted not holding back, not making an effort to be gentle. The strength that’s always in him, in his limbs, in his fingers. Effortless.

But then again Booster is not offering much resistance.

Only when Ted lets go of his wrist and Booster feels gloved fingers slip down the front of his tights again does he make a high-pitched squeak and firmly push him away, still grinning. “Okay, wait, in your room. I’ll --” Booster drops his voice low, smiling. “I’ll be up for just about anything when we get to your room. Or the -- the workshop or the bathroom, I don’t care. Just not here.”

He tells himself he's not abandoning the current plan. The plan is still good. It's just... A holdup. A small complication. If getting off gives Ted a few minutes to think, to be himself, that's what they'll do. A nice quickie, get dressed, get Ted to a doctor. It's only rational.

He looks at Ted's beautiful full lips and exhales. "Not here," he repeats weakly, mostly to himself.

“I know,” Ted pants, frowning, his arms winding around Booster’s torso. “I know, I know, I know, I know. Fuck. It’s just --” He squeezes Booster’s body against his, burying his face into the crook of Booster’s neck. There’s a sharp groan, bouncing off Booster’s collar. “I’m gonna burst like this. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

“Home stretch, Junebug,” Booster titters, enjoying the squeeze of Ted’s arms around him. He’s so strong. “Just up the stairs and --”

“Apparently there are new guidelines for welcoming visitors, I’m sorry I was not informed.”

There’s a flurry of movement all at once, Booster flinching away, pushing Ted off, and Ted bounding backwards so fast he upsets the small table in the hallway, the one where all the printed ads from the mail tends to gather until one of the Leaguers can’t bear to look at the tower of glossy paper and throws it all out. The ads spill all over the floor, covering not only the feet of Booster and Ted, but also the metal protuberances of the robot that has suddenly appeared.

The _robot?_

“Ah. Uh, fuck,” Ted breathes, stooping down to pick up a pile of ads and holding it with both hands, subtly trying to cover the dark patch in the crotch of his costume. He purses his lips, exhaling, trying to cool down, before he addresses the metallic creature. “God. L-Ron! Don’t sneak up on people like that!”

“I am not designed for sneaking, your azureness, I moved with my usual level of noise.” The oblong head tilts, like it’s considering something. “I suppose I could start playing Wagner constantly to alert people of my whereabouts, not to mention add a certain _invigorating atmosphere_ to every conversation, but I’m not sure that they--”

“It’s, it's fine, L-Ron,” Ted stutters, wiping his hand across his mouth. “You just, ah --” He tilts his head back, blinking at the ceiling, and Booster can tell he’s trying to fight whatever’s going on in his body, straining to seem normal. “For God's sake --” He swallows. “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling good, I’m... sick or something, i need to go to -- Up to the --” He lets go of the fan of ads and catalogs with one hand, a few of them spilling to the floor, and waves vaguely towards the stairs. “The room. Now. I -- Just. Sorry.”

Ted all but bounds across the floor, spilling a trail of multi-colored papers on his way across the living room, up the stairs, bumping bodily into Max who’s on his way down. He apologizes quickly, but doesn’t stop despite Max’ puzzled look. 

When he’s gone, Booster feels expectant gazes falling on him as he stands in the middle of a sea of glossy catalogs and single-page ads. Mutely following Ted does not seem to be a good option right now.

He clears his throat. “You... must be L-Ron, then.”

“Yes, I’ve never had a choice in the matter,” the robot replies pleasantly. “So, what is _your_ burden to bear, buff sir?”

“Sorry?”

“I mean your name.”

“Ah.” Booster swallows, already feeling off balance. He glances at the stairs, wondering how Ted's doing. “Booster. Booster Gold. I’m a -- I guess I’m a friend.” He should go. He should go to Ted, help him with -- the things he might need help with. ”I mean, a friend of, of --”

“The family?” 

“Te-- Beetle. I’m a friend of the Blue Beetle.” He's heard of this... this odd little robot, Max' new assistant. Something Scott brought back from space. How much does he know, about secret identities or --?

God, what does he know about _them?_ How much did he see, just now? What might he tell Max or the others?

“Or, I mean, I'm a friend of everyone. Everyone here," Booster stutters, trying to stay singularly focused on the bronze-like head of the robot as Max approaches from the stairs. "I was -- I was on the team, you know. The League. I used to be.”

“I know who you are, Mister Gold. I am aware.” The robot holds his upper appendages together, like folded hands. “And it seems you know who I am, judging from your lack of shock and horror at my sentience. I was getting used to the screams, you know.”

“Oh! Well, Beetle’s told me about you." Ted. He's wasting time here while Ted's going through God knows what up there. "And I’m, you know, I'm used to robots and droids from my own time.” Not so used to a robot with this kind of personality, though. He can’t help but think underneath the polite conversation lies real, exhausted loathing, a far cry from the cheerful service robots he knew from home. 

He wonders idly what Skeets would think, meeting this L-Ron. But then again no, who knows what Skeets might do if he fell under bad influence? Robot uprising probably, a synthetic apocalypse, all thanks to Booster Gold who introduced them.

“So what’s up with Beetle?” Max asks, stepping over a pile of glossy paper.

“He, um --" What's he supposed to say? That Ted got dusted with some kind of fuck potion? Ted would _kill_ him. And he can't exactly admit what that stuff has had them resort to, either. “With the, the space station and --”

Max makes a dismissive gesture. “J'onn called and briefed me on the basics. I mean, after that, what’s --” He glances back at the stairs. “How’s he doing? He did seem a bit flustered just now.”

“Oh, ah,” Booster rubs his neck, trying to find the words. “He’s not too bad, just a -- a little, um, restless.” He inhales, pausing. “Feeling a little hot and, um, uncomfortable. But, uh, good. He's good.”

“I thought maybe Mr. Beetle had collapsed,” L-Ron interjects.

Max frowns at Booster. “Collapsed?”

“His Goldaciousness was holding him up when I entered.”

Booster clears his throat forcefully, trying not to grimace. “Just a -- a dizzy spell. Nothing dramatic.” Booster glances unhappily towards the stairs.

“You’re sure?” Max asks. “I can call an ambulance or something. Or get a doctor here if he’s --”

“He doesn’t want -- He’s fine. Maybe later.” Booster tries to shrug good-naturedly. “He just needs rest. He needs quiet and --”

“Booster!” Ted’s voice carries down the stairs, panic at the edges. “You need to -- _Fuck._ Ah.”

There’s a pause.

“Can you _please_ come up here?”

Booster offers Max a bright smile. “He’s fine. Just -- I’ll, I’ll go help him.” He starts edging towards the stairs.

“Ah, I’ve heard about this,” L-Ron volunteers. “Holding people’s hair for them when they vomit.” The robot shudders. “A disgusting but meaningful social ritual among humans.”

“Yeah, I’ll -- I’ll get right on that.” Booster offers a stiff grin and leaps over to the bottom of the staircase.

"Just one more moment, Booster," Max tells him, and Booster can hear from the slight drop in register that this is Serious Max talking. And it makes him squirm, because he's fairly certain what he's about to say.

Booster pauses on the bottom step and offers his friendliest smile. "What can I do for you, Maxwell?"

Max pauses and sighs. "I just need you to know that this offer -- the League. It isn't indefinite, you know. I figured you needed a bit of time, but it's been months."

Booster glances up the stairs, down at his hands, and back up at Max. "I know."

"I'm saying either you get a shot or someone else does."

"I-- I get that, Max. I do."

“Ah, look, sorry,” comes Ted voice, almost cracking, from upstairs. “Booster _fucking_ Carter, can you get up here already?”

"Gimme a second!" Booster shouts up at him, his pulse thrumming in his ears. He'd take alien drug comedowns -- hell, even an alien _invasion_ right now -- instead of this particular conversation. "Max, it's -- I've been a little busy, that's all. I just --"

Max crosses his arms, frowning. "So that's a no, then."

"No! It's not-- I'm not saying no," Booster stutters, gripping the guardrail for support.

"So it's a yes?"

"That's one second I've given you, Booster!" Ted calls from upstairs. "Now it's _two!"_

Booster can feel beads of sweat forming under his cowl. "I -- Look, I can't just -- I don't know if --"

"I've got a ton of applicants to go through, you know," Max tells him firmly, gesturing towards the second floor. "It's an entire process, and if you're out I should have started with interviews weeks ago." He fans out his hands. "Look, I don't like to hurry anyone, but I've given you ample time, Booster. Either you're in the League or you're out."

"Booster, for fuck's sake!" Ted's voice is sounding more strained by the second.

"I -- Jesus. Okay, _yes!"_ The words come out louder than he means them to, caught between shouting up to Ted and talking to Max. "Yes! Max. I'm in, I'm -- I'll go back to the League. Okay?" He's out of breath even standing still.

At first Max stares wide-eyed at him, taken by surprise, then his expression melts into his most winning smile, his deal-making smile. "Booster, that's terrific!"

Booster wipes his face, realizing what he's done. He thought it would make him suffocate with guilt if he said yes, abandoning his own team again, his own project, cutting his losses like he always does and running away, but... There's a spark of excitement in his chest. Of relief. Of something like joy.

Back in the Justice League. Back working with Ted. With Bea, and Tora, and J'onn. Even Guy.

Booster Gold of the Justice League.

"I need to --" He exhales sharply, feeling a little dizzy. "I need to arrange things, I need to talk to Claire and make everything --" He looks up at Max, who's still beaming at him. "I need a grace period, okay? I'm not back overnight, I need to square everything first. Make arrangements."

"Of course!" Max tells him brightly. "We can go up to my office, get everything sorted."

"No, later," Booster tells him, edging backwards up the stairs. "Max, you have your answer, just let me -- I need to look after Ted right now."

"Of course, you do that," Max tells him, then he abruptly chuckles, like he thought of something funny. "You're teammates again, after all."

Booster can't suppress an odd smile, a softly spreading warmth in his chest.

Max nods at him. "I’ll be in my office within shouting distance, so just call out if --” He glances down at the upended table, the magazines scattered everywhere. “If he takes a turn for the worse. L-Ron, pick this up, will you?”

“I’ve been vibrating with excitement at the thought, M’Lord. Thank you.”

Booster grins, bounding up the stairs three steps at a time. Across the hall, past the door to his old room (his current room? Will he keep the apartment? He'll have to sort that out later), and then he slips inside Ted's door.

Ted is sitting curled up on the edge of his bed, hugging his knees, his cowl on the floor, and looks up, almost surprised at Booster's entrance.

Booster is out of breath, he grins apologetically. “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get caught up down there. It's just I...” He leans back against the wall, pulls off his gloves and pulls bare fingers through his hair. "I think I'm back in the Justice League." 

Ted's already on his feet, his hands grasping Booster’s hips and pushing him forcefully against the wall. Ted's lips already parted as he closes the distance and kisses Booster hard, like a starving man.

Booster whimpers softly and folds his arms around Ted’s neck, pulling him closer.

They can talk about it later.

“Booster,” Ted groans hoarsely when they have to part for air. “Booster, I’m going insane.”

“You still feel okay?” Booster whispers back, excited and worried all at once. 

“I’m okay, I’m just -- It’s the same, I need to-- I need -- Ah. Fuck.”

“We can do that,” Booster grins, and then jolts as Ted’s hand slips inside his tights, grasping his hardening cock. “I thought -- Christ. Mm. I thought we were supposed to get you off, not me.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know anything,” Ted breathes. “I just, I want --”

Booster groans softly, pulling Ted close in for another kiss. Ted kisses him back, pushing him up against the wall again. Then Booster grins against Ted's hot mouth and gently pulls Ted's hand out of his tights.

Ted pants, looking at him with dizzy confusion.

"Hold me like you did," Booster pleads, grinning. "Like you did downstairs."

There's another pause, Ted frowning, trying to concentrate, and then he recalls, chuckling breathlessly and grasping Booster by the wrists.

"Ah wait, wait, wait," Booster murmurs abruptly and titters, slipping a hand out of Ted's grip. He reaches into his own tights and urgently pulls the protective cup out of his jockstrap, letting it drop to the floor. He angles his head forward, giving Ted a hungry kiss of his own. "You too?"

Ted only manages to nod weakly, and quickly Booster's hand slides inside his tights too, ample space for him now Ted has removed the belt. He finds the neatly sewn pocket at the front, pulling out the white flexible cup still sticky with cum. The moment it clatters to the ground Ted's grip is around his wrist again, slamming it against the wall, his hips rocking forward and his strong thigh, warm and delicious, pressing between Booster's.

Booster whimpers happily, angling his hips back, arching against the wall, trying to find the best angle for their bodies to meet. Ted's body is so firm and wonderful and strong, pressing against him, the power of his grinding so wonderful and oh! Yeah. There. Warm cascades of sparkling pleasure with every thrust, every grind, Booster's cock hard and pounding and so wonderfully between them, against Ted's hip, the fabric of their costumes smooth against each other, gliding effortlessly.

He wants to moan, wants to tell Ted just how much he loves this, loves that when he gently tries to move his hands he can't. Ted's grip tightens, locking him so effortlessly in place he couldn't escape if he wanted to. And he absolutely doesn't want to. He rocks his hips to meet Ted's thrusts, again and again and again, and he's so hard, they're both so fucking hard and he wants to moan but he shouldn't, so he stoops forward to find Ted's mouth again, tries to keep quiet in the most delicious way.

Ted kisses him, hard and hungry, as he moves their hands higher. Booster giggles and squirms, enjoying being this helpless, being so wonderfully overpowered, groaning against Ted's mouth as they kiss and grind. His legs tremble, his cock is throbbing and the tightness in his pelvis is getting unbearable, his whole body screaming for release, to finally get over that edge. No matter how desperately he tries to move, how frantically he thrusts back, he only builds and builds, when he knows a few quick strokes or a single swipe of a wet tongue would make him come.

"Okay, ah, please," Booster murmurs against Ted's cheek, and his voice sounds strange and hoarse. "I need -- Just --" He lets out an uneven gasp. "Ted. Ted, I'm so close. I need more." More skin, more heat, more pressure, anything but this desperate grinding, dulled by too many layers of fabric. He tries to move his hand down, to finally touch himself, feel something direct, but his wrist doesn't budge in Ted's grasp. He chuckles hoarsely and angles his head back, panting. "Ted, I -- Ah. Please."

He can feel Ted grin against his neck, teeth against his skin. "I thought -- Mmm. I thought you liked this. You wanted this."

"I do," Booster whimpers in between pants, screwing his eyes shut, pushing his hips forward. "I do, I do, I do, I do, but -- Ahh. Fuck. I'm so close. I'm so fucking close and I need more, I want mm-more. Please."

Ted moves against him, unrelenting, grinding, so fucking hard against Booster's thigh. "No." His voice is deep and low and hoarse in Booster's ear. "I like you like this."

Booster can't suppress a moan, shuddering against Ted's body. Everything so tight, so hot, so ready to burst. He whimpers and bends his knees, riding Ted's thigh with desperate urgency. He's gonna go crazy like this, with Ted like this, so strong and powerful and gorgeous and unashamed and beautiful. His body aches, his cock aches, everything is so good it's bordering on painful, so close, so close so close so close --

Everything in his body seems to seize as he comes, hard, pressing against Ted. He clenches his teeth to stay silent even though his body wants him to be loud, to groan and moan and cry out Ted's name. He doesn't register what kind of noise comes out instead. Ted holds him up, holds him up even as Booster's legs buckle and he doesn't care if he'll fall, because his body is enveloped in fire-hot release, a wave though him, against him, and God, he loves Ted so much he could burst. He loves Ted so much he feels he could die from it.

He whimpers weakly with closed eyes, his voice muffled against Ted's shoulder. His mouth is watering, and when he manages to stand up somewhat straight again there's a dark patch of drool on Ted's costume.

"Jesus Christ," Booster mutters with a smile, exhausted, before Ted kisses him again, continues grinding against him, still hot, still desperate for release of his own. There are short sharp noises coming from deep within Ted now, his skin flushed and slick.

After a few moments of continued grinding, Booster exclaims without words, shying away, his lower body tingling with overstimulation. This time Ted lets go, and Booster hunches over, adjusting himself in his tights, before hooking his fingers in Ted's and grinning against his lips. "Now what can I do for you?"

Ted's eyes are dark and unfocused, a helpless frustration in his face. "I-- I, I don't know, I just," he breathes. "I want you."

Even after coming harder than he's done in ages, Ted's muttered words make his body feel on fire. "Your choice," Booster grins, out of breath. "My hands or my mouth or-- or whatever you want."

"Booster, I don't know," Ted all but groans, his hand gripping the back of Booster's neck, pulling their bodies close. "As long as it's you. Please."

Booster bites his lip, those earlier tempting notions resurfacing in his mind. The image of Ted fucking him, really fucking him, hard and shameless. But no, it wouldn't be Ted's decision, his own sober choice. It would be taking advantage. Still, he can't stop thinking about how gorgeous Ted can move, how mind-blowing the motion in his lower body is. He's obsessed with it.

“Okay, I’ve got an idea,” Booster murmurs, planting a kiss against Ted’s parted lips before working his way out of his grip and heading towards Ted’s messy nightstand. “Still got that bottle I gave you?”

Ted stands there forlorn, breathing hard. “I... The what?”

Booster opens the drawer, rooting around in the clutter in there for a few moments, finding nose decongestant, a few crumpled receipts, aspirin -- and the small plastic bottle he gifted Ted a year ago, before they split.

The lube.

He sees that it’s only two thirds full, and feels a little flash of excitement at the thought of Ted enjoying his gift nights when they’re apart. He'd blushed so sweetly when Booster had given it to him, saying he'd managed fine with cheap moisturizer all these years, that this felt oddly decadent -- and expensive -- in comparison. Booster's lot in life, teaching Ted that when it comes to stuff that goes on your skin, you always pay for the good stuff.

None of that giggly embarrassment is evident in Ted’s face now. He stands for a moment, regarding Booster, breathing through parted lips. “What are you --” Ted swallows, pulling his fingers through his short curls. “What’s your idea?”

“Just wanna try something.” Booster smiles, crossing the room to Ted’s desk. He pulls down and steps out of his tights and jockstrap, then squirts some lube into his hand and spreads it on the inside of his upper thighs. God, he hasn't done this kind of thing in aeons. Everything they do today feels so delightfully hormonal. “Come here,” he murmurs to Ted, who's quick to step close to him again, his hot breath warming Booster's skin.

As Booster leans forward to kiss him, he reaches out and pulls down Ted's tights too, spreads the remaining lube on Ted’s cock, and Jesus, he’s so hard and heavy and wonderful in his hand it makes Booster’s mouth water. Ted’s body reacts so deliciously, pushing against him, kissing him harder, groaning into his mouth.

“Good,” Booster breathes. “Good. Just stand there, let me turn around.”

A small noise from Ted. “I don’t wanna hurt you. I don't --”

“You’re not gonna. We’re just -- Get behind me, I’ll show you.”

Ted moves behind him, close up against him, and Booster groans appreciatively at the sensation of Ted’s cock resting against his ass. Fuck, it would be so good if they --

_Concentrate._

Booster exhales, and then reaches between his own legs, behind him. He grasps Ted’s cock and then guides it between his lubed thighs. There’s a little bit of repositioning involved considering their height differences, but it’s easier than it would have been if there’d be penetration involved. 

Satisfied, Booster presses his thighs together and rests his hand against the top of the desk. “Mm, see? Just --”

Ted’s hips slam against him hard enough to make him brace his palms against the desk, a small titter of surprise forced out of him.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Ted pants, obviously trying to hold back but his hips continue grinding against Booster's thighs. "Holy shit," he murmurs.

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” Booster grins, blinking down at the blueprints on Ted’s desk, squeezing his legs together. “It's good, right? Keep going.”

Ted moves against him, gentler now, his cock sliding smoothly between Booster’s lubed thighs, and when Ted moans, low and shameless, Booster feels warm joy deep inside his body. A warm flood of satisfaction and love every time he teaches Ted a new way they can enjoy each other. He moves slowly, loving how firm and and hot and slick Ted's cock feels between his legs.

That's when Ted grabs tight hold of Booster’s waist with both hands and picks up the pace, rougher, thrusting against him with his hands holding Booster authoritatively in place. Booster can't help but whimper appreciatively each time Ted's body slams against him.

"Oh, fuck! Yes. Ted," he murmurs, feeling himself getting hard again. He bends over further, resting his elbows on the desk, enjoying the force that drives into him with every thrust. "You -- You move so -- so good," he breathes between every thrust. "Mm. Fuck -- Ted!"

There's a lewd slap of skin on skin every time their bodies meet, exciting and perfect, an unmistakable rhythmic sound Booster and Ted have never, ever produced together before, and it makes Booster just about go insane hearing it, feeling it, being so deliciously part of it.

The strong hands gripping his waist, possessive, unmistakable. Ted using him like this. Rough and dirty and desperate. 

Ted’s breath is ragged. “Fuck, ah. It’s -- You’re amazing,” he groans, then picks up the pace even more. “Boos. Fuck. I didn't -- I didn't know --”

“Uh huh,” Booster replies, his mind increasingly emptying for words. His only wish would be a gigantic mirror right now, so he could see Ted, the desperate angle of his hips, his hands on his waist, the arch of his back. Pulling Booster to meet him just as much as he thrusts forward against him, again and again.

Booster moans helplessly, angling his hips, squeezing his thighs together. God, he’s gonna come from this, come from Ted just rubbing himself off between his thighs, but he’s never felt Ted rough like this before, unashamed like this before, those strong fingers squeezing his hips, the hoarse quality to Ted's voice when he murmurs his name. Ted’s breathing so ragged it sounds more like a growl, fucking him hard enough to make the desk knock against the wall.

“Ah, mmm, fuck. Fuck!” Booster pants, reaching a hand behind him, fingers fanned, to try and slow Ted, but it’s a weak attempt at best. “Max is -- still here. He’s -- He’s gonna hear. Oh. Fuck, Ted. We need -- We need to be quiet. Mmmm, we--”

Ted doesn’t slow. In the next moment he's grabbed a fistful of Booster’s hair, pulling his head back, arching his back further, and Booster can’t help but moan outright, a high-pitched shameless sound. On its own, Booster’s hand moves from behind him and to his own cock, stroking furiously as Ted pulls his hair, each tug sending electric surges down his body, into his cock, as Ted fucks him over the desk.

Booster comes with a choked cry, spattering the blueprints. His hand moves behind him again, fingers spread just to feel the motion of Ted's hips, unabated, powerful, brushing against his palm again and again. He whimpers appreciatively, the sting of his hair being pulled dissolving into the warmth that spreads through his body, and that’s when Ted slams hard against him a final time, hissing through clenched teeth, warm cum running down the inside of Booster’s legs.

“Ah,” Booster murmurs, letting his torso slide forward until his cheek meets the desk, and he can rest and catch his breath for a moment. His limbs feel weak and limp. “Holy shit.” There's a piece of paper that flutters with every heavy exhale. It feels difficult even focusing his gaze. “That was -- Wild. Oh my God.”

His heart feels like it's thumping directly against the wood of the desk. He can't seem to stop smiling. He waits for Ted to say something. He doesn’t. The rate of his heart thumping against the desk increases.

Fuck, maybe that space drug is some kind of black widow deal, shoot your stuff and then you --

Booster sits up abruptly, his gaze immediately finding Ted who hasn’t moved from his spot a few steps behind him. His body has a fine sheen of sweat, his short hair is damp. He looks so hot and lewd and beautiful Booster would take about a million photographs of him right now if he could. Ted’s chest rises with every breath, and he frowns, almost distraught, at Booster.

“What?” Booster asks.

“Booster, I’m _so_ sorry --” 

Booster grins, out of breath. “Do you feel better?”

“I--I... Yeah." Ted looks down at himself, the tights bunched around his thighs. "I feel fine.” Ted swallows. “I think.”

“Good.”

Ted stands for a moment, then quickly bends down to pull up his tights. “Uh... Yeah. I can -- Oh, I can think again. I think.” He chuckles weakly and swallows. “Yeah, it's not hazy like before.”

Booster exhales, still a goofy smile on his face. “Mm, that's great.” Booster gets to his feet, searching the floor for his discarded tights. “Now we can get you back to the hospital.”

Ted freezes. “Are you sure? I mean, I'm fine, I don’t really feel --” He slumps down on the edge of his bed, ruffling his own hair then frowning at his sweat-slick hand. “I -- I’d rather not, to be honest. Or would _you_ like to explain to them what kind of symptoms I’ve been having?”

“It’s not like we need to give them a blow-by-blow,” Booster tells him with a shrug. “Or if not the hospital, like at least just a checkup by some kind of professional, just to make sure you’re done.”

Ted makes a face, reddening. _“Done?”_

“Just a once-over by a doctor. I know Max has the number for one who --”

“Oh shit!” Ted freezes, staring at Booster. “Max. And we’ve been _so loud!”_

“Yes, he was a little worried,” comes a tinny voice from the other side of the locked door.

Both Booster and Ted startle. Booster springs to his feet, while Ted clasps a hand over his mouth, looking wide-eyed at Booster. They stare at each other for a moment.

_This time we've really fucked up._

“Ah," Booster calls out, hesitating. "L-Ron, was it?”

“You remember. How clever, sir," comes L-Ron's voice from the hallway. "There were some noises, I was sent to investigate.”

“No, we're fine." Booster looks at Ted, who makes a defeated gesture towards him, urging him to continue. "We're both fine."

"And the noises?"

"Beetle just had some, um, strange reactions to the alien... dust thing,” Booster continues, staring up at the roof for inspiration that does not come. “He hasn’t really... been himself. We, um --”

Ted flops down on the bed, hiding his face in his hands.

“We had a fight," Booster ventures, uncertain. "That’s, um, probably what you heard earlier. Knocked some things around.”

Ted looks up at him, palms up. _What the hell are you saying?_

“A fight,” L-Ron echoes, and his synthetic voice makes it impossible to discern his reaction.

“Yeah. A fight," Booster doubles down. "He was confused for a little bit there, there was some, um, wrestling and stuff.” 

“You cried out -- a sort of high-pitched yawp, your Tallness.”

“Ah! Yeah,” Booster chuckles nervously. “That’s when he, um. Bit me.”

 _Bit you?!_ Ted mouths at him.

"Just a... Minor injury. We're fine," Booster continues, adjusting his tights. “Just need a final checkup somewhere. Max knows a doctor.”

“Of course, I’ll inquire about the contact information.”

“Thank you, L-Ron,” Booster replies, a little proud of himself. “The, um, others aren’t home yet, right? It’s just us and Max?”

“Correct again, sir.”

“Okay, great. Just get us that doctor.”

“Appointment for two, coming right up.” There’s a faint whirring as the robot starts making his way down the corridor.

“Wait, L-Ron,” Booster calls out after him, frowning. “For two? It’s just Ted who got sprinkled with space dust.”

“You got bit, sir,” L-Ron tells him calmly. “Viciously.”

“Ah,” squeaks Booster, looking to Ted who's staring at him, lips pressed together. “That’s right.”

It only takes them a few minutes to get dressed, and then several more to figure out the best place to suffer a small but obvious bite wound.

**Author's Note:**

> You voted for it, now it's finally here! Sex pollen shenanigans! You thought you'd just get shameless boning when you voted for this option at the beginning of the Conglomerate arc, did you? Well, fair, I did too, but then nothing ever goes according to plan for these guys.
> 
> I had fun being this shameless and silly, even though it's by far been the hardest (hahhh) chapter to figure out. I have never done as many drastic rewrites for any other part of this series. What a way to spend my summer vacation!
> 
>  **[Songs:](https://open.spotify.com/user/tilly_stratford/playlist/4SqomvmhyncWPEAobYUZ88?si=DNXWufsLSs29KqRywW2U9A)**  
>  (YES it was just a working title that made me laugh, I'm an adult)  
> Why's it so hard - Madonna


End file.
